


dog days

by omgimnaked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgimnaked/pseuds/omgimnaked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's August in Georgia, Cas is a baby in a trench coat; Dean helps him beat the heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dog days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Beat The Heat Comment Fest (pocky-slash.livejournal.com/1637707.html) You should go check it out--it's multifandom and there's some yummy stuff there.

They’re working a job in Georgia. It’s August, the unbearable dog days of summer. Dean’s beginning to think this might be the reason why they generally avoid travelling to the Deep South. He hadn’t realized how close to human Cas was getting, but it’s clear that he’s at “baby in a trench coat” status when Dean sees the sheen of sweat on his face, the way it’s running down his neck, his dress shirt see-through and sticking to him.

Cas is old beyond the telling of it, has seen more than even the Winchesters with their cursed lives can fathom, but feeling unbearably, wrung-out, hurts-to-move hot is not something with which he is familiar.

“Cas, you okay?”

“No, Dean, I do not think that I am ‘okay’.” Cas punctuates his imitation of Dean’s admittedly stupid choice of words with a set of air quotes.

“Yeah, yeah, I can see that you’re not. Uh, we gotta get you out of those clothes.”

Cas raises an eyebrow at him. “Dean, is this really the time?”

Dean notes, not for the first time, that Cas has been entirely too influenced by his time spent with Dean and his dirty mind. But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t enjoy having corrupted his angel.

“Cas, seriously. That Holy Tax Accountant uniform wasn’t made for Georgia heat.”

The practicality of Castiel’s (well, Jimmy’s) clothing hasn’t really been an issue in the past, minus Dean’s displeasure at how long it takes to undress him, but Cas has rarely been this close to human, to being as powerless as the rest of them.

Castiel shrugs the trench coat off his shoulders, draping it carefully over a chair in the hotel room he’s not-at-all-awkwardly sharing with Dean and Sam. Dean rifles through Sam’s duffel looking for clothes; although Dean and Cas are obviously closer in size, Dean doesn’t really have any clothes more practical for the weather than the ones Cas wears. It’s hard to look like a badass in summer clothes, so Dean usually just deals with it in his usual jeans and t-shirts.

Dean unearths some clothes that’ll work for now. They’ll need to actually go shopping later, the thought of which makes Dean roll his eyes; anytime they go into a Walmart, Cas turns into some fucked up amalgam of The Little Mermaid and Arthur Weasley, asking him the precise function of random items all over the store. He sighs at the thought as he hands the clothes to Castiel.

“Go have a shower. It’ll help cool you off and you’ll feel better without all that dried-on sweat all over you. Sam’s clothes aren’t really gonna fit, but they’re the best I got right now.”

“They’ll be fine. Thank you, Dean.”

As Castiel walks away, it occurs to Dean that Cas has most likely never had to shower before, but he’s pretty sure he can figure out the basics (not that Dean would mind teaching him). Dean sits down on the edge of the bed, more or less twiddling his thumbs. Sam is off doing some research, so there’s no telling how long he’ll be gone. He toys with the idea of finding Casa Erotica on tv, but Cas asks way too many questions when they watch porn, as if he doesn’t have some working knowledge at this point. He’s moved up the bed and is lying down on top of the covers, half-dozing, when he hears the bathroom door open.

Cas walks back into the room. It’s strange; he’s seen Cas naked many times, but there’s something more intimate about seeing him like this.

Cas’ hair is a mess, wet and sticking out at odd angles. He’s wearing a wrinkled, short-sleeved button-up shirt (which he’s neglected to button), and a pair of black shorts that Sam sometimes wears when he goes out to run while Dean is sleeping like a civilized human being.

Nothing matches, and even with the drawstring pulled tight and tied, the shorts are barely staying up. It should be funny, but Dean is not laughing. The clothes aren’t fit for Cas to go out in public, which is fine with Dean because he doesn’t plan on them going anywhere for awhile. He swallows hard as he gets up from the bed and walks over to Castiel. He splays a hand over Cas’ exposed hipbone, thumb angled down to barely brush over the dark hair partially exposed over the shorts’ waistband.

“You look ridiculous,” Dean says as he wraps his other hand around the back of Cas’ neck, pulling him in close. He’s smiling as his lips meet Castiel’s. He navigates them toward the bed as they kiss; when the backs of Cas’ knees hit the edge of the bed, Dean pushes him down onto the mattress, straddling him. He’s grinning bigger still when he finally ends the kiss, simultaneously biting Cas’ lower lip and grinding his hips into his.

With Cas lying down, the shirt has fallen fully open; Dean takes advantage, taking Cas’ nipple into his mouth and biting down. Castiel bucks his hips and lets out something between a hiss and a moan as Dean licks where he’s just bitten, as much to make Cas squirm as to ease any hurt he may have caused.

Dean continues his way down Cas’ body, kissing his way back to the hipbone he’d grabbed at earlier. After the initial feather-light kiss, he begins sucking and biting at the skin. As he works on leaving his mark, he looks up to see Cas’ reaction; blue eyes closed, teeth working at his already chapped lips. As if he can’t hold back anymore, Cas writhes and scratches his blunt nails down Dean’s back, and Dean practically growls out “fuck yes, Cas.”

Dean thinks that he and Cas have both waited long enough for what he’s been thinking of doing since Castiel stepped back into the room, and he begins working at untying the knot in the drawstring of the shorts. He can hardly help if he accidentally brushes against Cas’ obvious arousal in the process, and he definitely doesn’t chuckle at Cas bucking his hips and moaning as he takes entirely too long untying the knot. Finally, he pushes the shorts down, just enough to free Cas’ cock, and swallows as much as he’s able.

Dean (secretly, as he would never admit any sexual failings, whether real or imagined, to anyone) doesn’t think he’s great at giving blowjobs. Castiel seems to disagree, which is nice even though Dean knows he has no basis for comparison. At any rate, it’s only Dean’s steady hands on Cas’ hips that keeps Cas from bucking up and gagging Dean (which has happened before).

Dean pulls off slowly, dragging his tongue along the underside on his way, and almost pulls away completely before swirling his tongue around and over the head. Cas tastes salty, but smells clean from the hotel soap, and Dean vaguely wishes he’d thought to do this before he sent Cas to the shower, when there would have been nothing competing with the heady aroma of Cas’ arousal. But this is way past ‘good enough’; the sounds Cas is making, the tightening of his hands in Dean’s hair, the taste of him on Dean’s tongue.

He knows Cas isn’t going to last much longer, and he begins stroking the base of Cas’ cock, creating a rhythm between the movements of his hand and his mouth.

Cas gives a warning, “Dean, I’m going to,” letting the obvious last word hang in the air as Dean continues working at him, not pulling his mouth away as he always has before. Cas’ body tenses, and Dean stays with him through his orgasm, swallowing all that he can. When Cas is finished, Dean pulls away, swiping the back of his hand over the slight mess at the corner of his mouth. He pushes the shorts back into place and drapes himself over Castiel, kissing him open-mouthed so that Cas can taste himself on Dean’s tongue.

Castiel sounds vaguely embarrassed when he finally speaks. “Dean, you didn’t have to…”

When Dean replies, “Shut up, Cas,” he really means, “I don’t know how you keep making me do things I’d never do, but please don’t ever stop.”

And Cas understands.


End file.
